


Honeymoon or Bust

by Jack_Wilder



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Civil War did not happen but some of the characters knows each other, Cousin Incest, Erik is an awesome big brother and nephew everyone needs in their life, Erik just wants T'Challa to leave him in peace, Everett is the father figure everyone needs in their life, M/M, Sequel to 'Marriage? What Y'all Talkin' 'Bout?', T'Challa wants his husband
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-29 23:58:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14484066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jack_Wilder/pseuds/Jack_Wilder
Summary: Erik thought he was done, but T'Challa had other plans.





	1. You Ain't Funny Cuz

**Author's Note:**

> Do not, I repeat DO NOT translate any of my works without my permission and then try to pass it off as your own. This goes for everything I have written and posted to this site.
> 
> On another note, I had no idea, that my first fic in this fandom 'Marriage? What Y'all Talkin' 'Bout?' would have blown up the way it did. I am still amazed at the amount of persons who read it and loved it. In addition to those who demanded a sequel.
> 
> I promised you a chaptered sequel, so I hope that you enjoy this continuation and that it lives up to its predecessor. 
> 
> Let me just inform you, do not waste your time typing any hate comments. Those will be deleted before I respond to them and allow that negativity to be shown publicly and anywhere near my work.
> 
> If you see any errors, please POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

_"That we need to decide on where to go for our honeymoon."_

Erik felt his eye twitch as those words echoed in his head. He eyed T'Challa and he was sure that his face screamed  ** _MURDER_**. Everyone was quiet as the two men stared at each other in the small living room.

"Come again bruh."

Forever calm, T'Challa repeated himself. "I said, that we need to decide on where to go for our honeymoon."

"Pfft!" Erik slapped a hand over his mouth, but he could not hold back the hysterical laughter. "You- you-" Erik could not breathe, much less speak from how hard he was laughing. He doubled over, his stomach muscles cramping from the force of his laughter. Inhaling deeply and then releasing his breath, Erik finally regained control of himself. 

"You're not funny cuz." He said, face blank, dead serious.

T'Challa remained quiet, his face and lack of a reaction showing Erik just how serious he was.

"You _are_ aware that this marriage," Erik gestured between him and T'Challa, "is just for politics? It's not real, hence, there is no need for a honeymoon."

"Actually, it is very real Erik."

"You just love fucking up my life, don't you?"

"On the contrary, I want to get to know my cousin."

Erik rolled his eyes. "Well, tough. I am kind of busy now." He gestured to his neglected laptop and notes on the small dining table behind him.

T'Challa glanced at where he pointed. "How is your thesis coming along?"

"I was doing quite well until you showed up at my door son."

"Erik, please I do not wish to fight." T'Challa took a step forward and Erik took a step back, ignoring the look of hurt that flashed across his face.

"And I never wished to be in this situation. I never wished to be forcefully married to my cousin."

"No one forced you Erik."

Erik's eyebrows shot up. "Really? No one forced me? It was either that or fight to the death."

"To the death or until one of us yielded."

"And did you see that happening?"

"Would you have killed me?" T'Challa's question stopped Erik cold in his tracks.

"What?"

"Would you have killed me?" He repeated.

Erik looked away. "No, but only because I do not want to be king kitty."

"Black Panther."

"Whatever Simba."

"Simba is a lion."

"Whatever Bagheera." Erik said with a roll of his eyes. "My point is, neither would I have yielded."

"Then it was a wise choice to choose marriage."

Erik eyed him up and down, "wasn't one of my conditions to this marriage, was that we not see each other again?"

"A condition I elected to ignore." T'Challa replied smoothly and a bit smugly.

Erik ran a hand through his hair, sitting down heavily in the chair he had previously vacated. "There is no winning against you is there?" His eyes tracked T'Challa as he came and sat in the chair adjacent to his.

"There is not winning or losing Erik. I simply wish to get to know my husband."

"Those phone calls and emails not enough?"

T'Challa gave him a flat look. "This is the first time in three weeks that I am seeing my husband. I had to use the excuse of attending a conference just to visit you, so that you would not somehow get wind of my intentions to visit and flee the country."

That grabbed Erik's attention. He recalled Shuri making mention of some conference T'Challa was attending in the States. "So, you're saying there was no conference?"

T’Challa shook his head.

"Just-" Erik held up a hand, "just, give me a moment. Wait right here." He turned sharply and walked down the short hallway to his bedroom where he none too gently closed his bedroom door before pressing a bead on his kimoyo beads.

"Did you know your brother was coming here?" He asked the image of Shuri as soon as she had materialized. 

"Yes, I knew he was going to the States." She looked at him with mild concern. "Why? What happened?"

Erik narrowed his eyes at her. "Your. Brother. Is. Here. In. My. Apartment. Did you know he was coming here specifically?"

"No." She dragged out the word. "I even asked him if he was thinking of visiting you while he was there for the conference, and he evaded my question each time. How's the visit going? Is he still alive?"

Erik did not bother to answer her, disconnecting the call and walking back out to the living room. 

"Yeah, Imma have to respectfully decline going anywhere with you, especially on a honeymoon. Now get out of my apartment, fuck you very much." He ignored the bristling of the Dora Milaje guards who were with T'Challa, for how he was speaking to their king.

T'Challa himself did not look perturbed in the slightest by Erik's answer and continued open hostility. "Oh, that is a shame. However -"

"What now?" Erik groaned.

"-Since you left Wakanda in such a hurry." 

"Not fast enough in my opinion."

T'Challa ignored the comment and turned to one of his bodyguards who Erik was now seeing, held a medium size polished wooden box in her hands, that T'Challa relieved her of. "I did not get to give you your wedding present."

"Oh bummer." Erik said dryly, eyeing the box as it was held out to him. 

"Go on. Take it."

Erik was sorely tempted to wipe that damn smile off his cousin's face. Instead, he took the box and placed it down beside his laptop. "There, I took it. It's a pretty box."

"Open it."

"Open what?"

"The box Erik."

Erik looked at the beautifully polished mahogany box on which there were intricately etched designs that now looking at it properly he saw that the etchings formed an  ** _'E'_**. "Isn't this the gift? It's a really pretty box." He had to admit. 

"The box is not the gift, merely the vessel."

Without any further arguments, something T'Challa was quietly thankful for, Erik opened the box. 

"Is this- is this  _jade?_ " Erik held in his hands, a beautifully carved figurine of a panther and a jaguar intertwined with each other in what could only be described as a loving embrace. He was entranced by the smallest details. The jaguar's eyes were two small  _Yellow Canary diamonds,_ while the panther's eyes were  _black onyx gems._ Erik ran his fingers over the figurine, feeling the smoothness of it. 

"It really is beautiful." He commented, dazed by the gift that had been given to him.

"That it is." 

Erik jerked back, not realising how close T'Challa had gotten. So close that the sleeve of his jacket brushed Erik's bare arm. "Mind backing up there a lil?"

Chocolate brown eyes turned mischievous and T'Challa took a step forward, effectively pressing Erik against the small dining table without laying a hand on him.

"Move or you will be moved T'Challa." Erik growled.

T'Challa smiled smugly, "as much as that would be interesting, I do not think your neighbours would appreciate the ruckus we would no doubt create."

"Man, I about three seconds away from throwing your ass out my front door."

"Not before we decide on our honeymoon destination."

"For the last time, I am not-" Erik was interrupted by the specialized ringtone of  _'Pretty Woman'_  playing. "Hold up. Gimme a sec."

T'Challa watched as Erik grabbed his phone from beside his laptop and answered it.

"Hey Auntie, sup? Huh-uh, yeah, yeah. Ok, gimme a minute and lemme find him. Imma call you right back." Erik disconnected the call.

"Trouble?"

"Nah." He answered distractedly, pressing the speed dial on his phone. "Just gotta find a lil' delinquent is all." Erik moved the phone back to his ear, and from where he stood, T'Challa heard the line ring three times before being answered.

"Oi, you lil' asshole!"

T'Challa's eyebrows raised at the greeting. He became even more intrigued when he heard the panicked voice of a young male teenager on the other end of the call. He tried to not make it obvious that he could hear  _everything_  being said thanks to his enhanced hearing.

"Take your lil' swinging ass back on home. 

T'Challa's eyebrows were doing their best to become one with his hairline at having heard the word 'swinging' and hoping it did not mean what he knew it to mean.

"Your auntie just called me, near to tears having no idea where you at or wha' cha doing." 

Taking the opportunity of Erik being distracted by his phone call, T'Challa walked around the living room, looking at the personal knick knacks and photographs Erik had on display. His bookshelf was packed with many different books from various genres, science and technology, psychology, philosophy, politics, horror, thriller, action, there were multiple cook books for cuisines from around the world, including books on music and even  _knitting_. 

T'Challa was impressed. His husband was well read.

Moving on from the books, he came across a photograph with Erik among his squad mates in the shade of a tent. Whoever was taking the photo had caught the soldiers all laughing hard at something, as their eyes were all crinkled, wide smiles on their faces. However, Erik stood out the most, with his beautiful dark skin, bright white smile and dimples. 

The next photograph showed Erik shaking hands with Tony Stark, the dry sandy desert the backdrop and they both wore genuine smiles. There were a few with Erik and Ross. The best one was of Erik standing beside Ross, while holding a little baby in his arms. Ross was smiling serenely at the camera, while the baby and Erik were looking at each other and smiling.

He felt something warm in his chest at the sight of Erik holding the baby in his arms. However, T'Challa’s attention was brought back to Erik's phone call.

"I swear to God, if I have to come find you, Imma raise a great amount of unholy hell on your lily-white ass Parker!" Erik threatened. "Imma beat you into a  _new race_." He hissed.

T"Challa couldn't help the snort that escaped him, causing Erik's eyes to land sharply on him, in addition to making his body guards snigger in amusement. He heard the hurried acquiesce from the teenager, before turning back to the photographs. 

"Now get home and don't let Auntie May have to call me again, wondering where your dumbass is." 

The photo beside the previous one was of Erik posing with his hands making the shape of a heart against his chest, standing beside a beautiful looking older lady with long straight brown hair and a kind motherly smile on her face. Next to the lady was a young man, who looked just like her with brown eyes and curly brown hair. T'Challa assumed that this was 'Auntie May and Parker'. She had her arms wrapped around both young men standing on either side of her.

The next photo made him stop short. It was of a much younger Erik; he looked to be around eleven years old, standing between a smiling young black couple and T'Challa immediately knew who they were. He felt a pang of sadness for Erik. Having lost his parents so young and at the same time. But he also felt a bit of resentment towards, Erik's father, N'Jobu for not telling Erik of his birth right and the fact that he was a prince and had family on the other side of the world who would have wanted him, had they known about him. A family that Erik rejects. 

Shaking himself out of his straying thoughts, T'Challa heard the ending part of the phone call. His head snapped around to Erik's direction, his eyes wide when Erik confirmed what he had heard on the other end of the line.

"Was - was that  _gunfire_?" Erik raised an eyebrow at the sad excuse Peter gave him. Rolling his eyes heavenwards, he shook his head. "Ass home  _now Parker._  I love you too. Now get home."

T'Challa eyed Erik up and down, hearing those words come out of his mouth as he hit another speed dial number on his phone. 

"Hey, Auntie May? I found our missing delinquent and gave him a proper cussing out. I love you. Take care." He hung up his phone and tossed it onto the small dining table. With a drawn-out sigh, he turned to face T'Challa. "Long time family friends." He explained.

"You sound very close to them."

"We  _are very close_." Erik stared down T'Challa. "We family."

T'Challa stared back. "So are we."

"Nah, it takes a lot more than blood and a ring around our fingers to make us family."

T'Challa glanced down at Erik's bare left ring finger and raised an eyebrow. "Where is  _your_ ring?" The light of the dining room/living room glinted off the vibranium ring circling T'Challa's own left ring finger as the question left his mouth.

With a roll of his eyes, Erik pulled out the chain that held his father's ring from underneath his shirt to reveal his own vibranium wedding band, resting comfortably beside N'Jobu's ring. "Stop looking at me as if I kicked your kitty."

"We still need to-"

"No." Erik cut him off, his voice hard. " _We_  do not have to do anything.  _I_ need to finish my thesis and you need to get out and go back to ruling your country."

"Why must you always make things so difficult Erik?"

"Not making things difficult cuz." Erik drawled. "Just trying to live my life."

"And I am trying to get to know my cousin who is now my husband."

"Guess we at an impasse." Erik raised his hands and dropped them, causing them to slap against his thighs.

"What do you suggest we do about it?"

Erik pretended to think about it. "Get an annulment."

"Not an option."

Erik threw up his hands, "this is getting ridiculous."

“It is.” T'Challa agreed and approach Erik, grasping his biceps, ignoring the warning look Erik gave him. "Ok, how about you have dinner with me, Friday night and we can come to an agreement?"

“How about you take your hands off me before you lose them? Erik countered, staring his cousin down before T’Challa relented.

“As to your request, it sounds reasonable. Just inform me of the time and place and I will be there."

T'Challa smiled. "No, need, I will come pick you up.” He leaned in, placing a quick kiss on Erik's lips before moving back to create some distance between them before Erik even had a chance to react. “I will see you Friday."

Erik was stunned by the kiss that it took a few seconds for his brain to catch up. “Oi! Don’t just go kissing me as you like!” He yelled, but T’Challa was already gone, his apartment door closely quietly. “Fucking hell.” He breathed.


	2. Just Like A Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik just can’t seem to shake T’Challa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wish to translate any of my works, ASK for permission first and wait for a response from me. 
> 
> Do not, I repeat DO NOT translate any of my works without my permission and then try to pass it off as your own. This goes for everything I have written and posted to this site.
> 
> Let me just inform you, do not waste your time typing any hate comments. Those will be deleted before I respond to them and allow that negativity to be shown publicly and anywhere near my work.
> 
> If you see any errors, please POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

Erik had just gotten out of a meeting with his academic supervisor regarding his thesis when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Stepping to the side and out of the way of other students, he looked at the name flashing on the screen and answered with a curse.

"Fucking hell Ross, he wants to go on a  _honeymoon_!" He almost shouted into the phone, not giving his friend a chance to greet him.

 _"Erik?"_  Everett Ross sounded confused.  _"Who wants to go on a honeymoon? Are you calling me in your sleep? Please, take a break from writing your thesis."_

Erik dragged a hand down his face and growled. "I am at school, it is the middle of the day and I am not talking crazy. T'Challa came to my apartment last night, saying that we need to decide on where to go for our honeymoon."

The line was silent for a minute before Ross responded.  _"I suggest Italy. Great beaches and great food. I can recommend this wonderful outdoor cafe_."

"You're enjoying this a little too much Ross and not helping one bit."

The sounds of gunshots in the background were heard and Erik frowned.

"Are you ok Ross?"

_"Yeah, just hold on."_

He heard the rapid succession of return gunfire while waiting for Ross to return. "Where are you? Do you need any help? I will gladly drop everything here and come help you." Erik said in a rush.

 _"I am ok."_  Ross was breathing heavily.  _"And that is classified. No, you will not drop everything. You got out and will not be returning to this life."_  

Erik would never return to that life, he just wanted to escape T'Challa.

_"Where T'Challa is concerned, just give him a chance. You're married to the man, no getting away from that. So, make the best of the situation."_

"And how do I do that?"

_"First of, stop being such a violently aggressive asshole to him. Tell him that you will go on a honeymoon with him, but only after you have completed your thesis and have defended it. Only when you have completed that goal you will go wherever he wants."_

"Wherever  _he_ wants?" Erik echoed.

_"Yes, you are going to make the man wait. At least allow him to choose the destination."_

Erik rolled his eyes, "fine, I will tell him at dinner tomorrow."

 _"Oh?"_  Ross sounded intrigued.  _"You're having dinner with him."_

"Yeah, it was the only way to get him to leave."

_"Well, all the best and remember what I said."_

"I will. And Ross stay safe. I need you to come home."

 _"I will kid."_  

Erik could hear the smile in Ross's response right before he heard a grenade exploding in the distance. 

 _"I have to go."_  Ross said in a hurry.

"Yeah, you go do whatever you are doing."

Erik disconnected the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall, listening to the sounds of students moving around him. 

"You look like shit." A female British voice said from beside him and Erik smiled.

Opening his eyes, he looked down into dark chocolate brown eyes. "And you are looking as lovely as ever Linda."

Linda Maxwell, a fourteen-year-old genius that hailed from  _Oxford, England_. Erik had met Linda just a few short weeks ago when she began her time at M.I.T.  _as a sophomore._ He had first met her in the library where she was between the shelves, stretching for a book on a top shelf when he had stepped in and got it for her. From there, they began talking and became friends.

Erik still found it amusing that he was close friends with someone sixteen years his junior, but she was the little sister Erik never had. 

"Thesis giving you trouble?" She asked.

"Nah." Erik pushed away from the wall and Linda fell into step beside him, allowing him to sling an arm around her shoulder. "Just some personal stuff."

"Wanna share?" 

"Not right now."

"Ok, whenever you are ready."

Erik loved Linda, she was independent, strong, brave, spoke her mind, but she was also sweet, understanding and never pushed him.

They walked in silence to one of the many kiosks on the campus. Linda bought a bag of  _Oreo's_ and a bottle of water, while Erik bought a large cup of black coffee and a red bull.

Linda eyed his purchase, "long night?"

Erik snorted and shook his head, "you got no fucking idea girlie."

"Are you going to be ok going to the presentation that is in," Linda glanced at her watch, "fifteen minutes?"

"Yeah, let's get going. I want proper seats."

The two friends made it to the lecture auditorium with ten minutes to spare. They chose two seats in the front row, closest to the exit. They sat in silence as they waited for the rest of the audience to be seated, Linda munching on her food.

Erik glanced at her, "make sure to eat a proper meal later."

"Yes, dad."

"Hey, don't sass me child. I  _am_  old enough to be your father."

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen." They both turned to face the faculty's Dean, "if you would all just quickly take you seats, it would be my greatest pleasure to introduce our guest speaker for the presentation."

Everyone immediately sat, and the room went quiet, waiting with baited breath to see who this guest speaker was.

"I'm surprised they were able to keep this a secret for so long." Linda leaned over and whispered to him. "Nothing remains secret here."

"Tell me about it." Erik smirked.

The Dean continued speaking, "allow me to introduce, King T'Challa of Wakanda."

Erik's head snapped around to face the stage, his eyes widening in disbelief as T'Challa walked out onto the stage to the sound of applause, a warm smile on his face as he shook hands with the Dean. Once he was at the podium, his eyes scanned the crowd before finding Erik's horrified eyes.

"Damn he's bloody fit."

"Fuck my life."

Erik and Linda said at the same time. 

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen," T'Challa's soft accented voice filled the room. "Thank you for inviting me here today."

"That lying piece of shit." Erik's exhaustion suddenly felt doubled and without a second thought, he opened both his coffee and red bull and nonchalantly upended the entire can of red bull into his coffee. Erik saw the slight look of concern flash across T'Challa's face before it quickly vanished.

"Bloody hell Erik." Linda hissed, "are you trying to give yourself a heart attack?"

Erik recapped his coffee cup before chugging half of it. "If only."

It was only due to Erik's military training that kept him from fidgeting or flinching anytime his and T'Challa's eyes made contact. He wanted to leave, he had been looking forward to this presentation, however, the guest speaker being the last person he ever wanted to see put a major damper on it.

He looked beside him to see Linda looking enraptured by the holographic videos being shown, no doubt courtesy of Shuri and he smiled. With a tired sigh, Erik leaned back in his seat, and looked at T'Challa with a raised eyebrow. "Just twenty more minutes." He whispered to himself.

As soon as the presentation was finished, Erik was up and out of his seat, pulling Linda behind him.

"What the bloody hell is your problem mate?!" She shouted as she jogged to keep up with his long strides lest she fell, and he just continue pulling her like a rag doll.

"Nothing just got things to do, places to be."

Linda eyed Erik, "are you going to tell me why you looked like you saw a ghost at the mention of that dude's name? T'Challa or whatever?"

Erik rolled his eyes, "nothing gets by you does it?" He said between clenched teeth.

"Nope. Now spill, you looked as if you wanted to be anywhere but, in that presentation, when I know for a fact you were even more excited about it than me."

"I will, but we have to get food first. I made a stupid ass decision an hour ago and I feel as if I am going to vibrate out of my skin."

Having put considerably distance between them and then lecture auditorium, Erik slowed to a sedate pace, but still had a hold on Linda. They walked to their favourite restaurant on the campus, where  _their_ table was always held for them. After placing their order, Erik and Linda sat by the picturesque window that looked out at the beautifully maintained campus.

"Ok," Linda clasped her hands on the table in front of her and gave Erik her undivided attention. "Talk."

"Before I tell you anything," Erik leaned forward, lowering his voice, " _this never leaves here._ "

"You have my word."

Erik knew for the short few weeks he had known the fourteen-year-old girl, that her word was damn good. So, he launched into the adventure that he went on almost a month ago. How he turned out to be the long-lost Prince of a tiny African nation and how he had to marry his cousin to appease the minds of the country's citizens. And how that same cousin was the one who just presented.

Linda sat quietly with rapt attention, wanting to ask questions but waiting for Erik to finish speaking. "Damnnnnnnn." She dragged out the word. "This is like a midday soap opera."

"Tell me about it." Erik groaned. "I thought I got rid of him and he just popped back up last night, turning my world upside down again."

Linda glanced behind him, "well he just popped back up again."

"Please be fucking with me." Erik pleaded even as he turned in his seat to see that T'Challa along with his bodyguards had just entered the restaurant. Both his and T'Challa's eyes connected. Erik spun back around, cursing that there was only one entrance and exit in the place.

"Erik, you are an adult, just be mature and greet your husband." 

Erik glared at her and Linda smiled brightly at him. "You are enjoying this too much."

Linda grinned, "it's not every day you find out that your best friend is a prince and married to a king."

"You are not helping the situation at all." 

"I am not trying to." Linda sighed and rolled her eyes, "you were in the military. Just treat him as you would an enemy. Oh, just so you know, he's right behind you."

Erik turned to see T'Challa standing to his left. "Well fancy running into you here cuz." He drawled. 

T'Challa raised an eyebrow, "good afternoon Erik, miss." He tilted his head in Linda's direction.

"Good afternoon King T'Challa." Linda beamed, and Erik wanted to throttle her. "That was a great presentation you gave."

"Thank you." T'Challa smiled at the teenager and Erik swore he saw hearts in her eyes.

"Thought you said there was no conference." Erik drawled.

"No, there is no conference," T'Challa smiled, "but there was a presentation. Are you going to introduce me to your friend Erik?"

Erik smiled nastily, and Linda knew he was up to something before he opened his mouth. "Linda, meet your stepdad T'Challa. Hubby meet your step-kid."

T'Challa looked at Linda, who was staring at Erik with an unimpressed look. 

"Erik, I was not aware that you-"

Erik, not in the mood for anymore of T'Challa turned to address Linda, "you done?”

"Yeah."

"Great, get your shit, we are leaving." He slid out of his seat and stood up, standing at the same height as his husband. "Excuse me, I got shit to do." He shouldered pass T’Challa, without so much as another glance towards him. "Move your ass Linda, I have to drop you off at your mom's."

Linda looked between, T'Challa's carefully blank face and Erik's rapidly retreating form. "He's lying." She said as swung her backpack onto her back. "I'm just a friend. As far as I know, he does not have any children and has not had a girl friend since high school."

T'Challa smiled kindly at her. "It was nice meeting you Linda."

"You too, your majesty."

"Linda!" Erik’s voice sounded from outside.

"Just give him some time."

T'Challa nodded at the advice, watching as Linda walked away to meet his husband outside. The same husband he was to have dinner with the next day, who did not want him and could not stand to be in the same room as him.

“Why did you have to be so horrible?” Linda demanded once she caught up with Erik.

Erik snorted, “you would be too, if a bunch of royal family members you did not know exist turned your life upside down.”

“T’Challa seems to be really nice and he appears to like you a lot.”

“Oh,” Erik glanced at her from the corner of his eye, “you picked that up in the few seconds you were in his presence?”

“No, I saw it in the way he looked at your retreating back as if you had kicked his puppy and laughed in his face about it. You really hurt his feelings ‘Rik.”

Erik rolled his eyes, wondering what he ever did to allow such nosy and insightful people into his life. “Fine! I will apologise to him over dinner tomorrow night. Happy?”

Linda smiling up at him was all the answer he needed.


	3. We. Are. Family.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and T’Challa goes on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEW CHAPTER!!!!! :D
> 
> If you see any errors, please POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

“He hates me mama.” T’Challa said pitifully to the image of his mother via his kimoyo beads.

 _“Oh, baby, do not say that.”_ Ramonda tried to comfort her son, but it was of no help.

“He does; you do not see the way he looks at me with such hatred in his eyes. He cannot stand to be in the same room as me.”

 _“Just give him sometime T’Challa, this is all new to him, to both of you, but to him especially.”_ Ramonda tried to explain. _“He had this entire other life that he did not know about; I am sure that he is still working through the shock.”_

T'Challa sighed, knowing what his mother spoke was wise advice, he just hoped the amount of time Erik needed was not forever.

 _"Try to get to know each other during dinner tonight."_  His mother further advised him.  _"If possible, stay away from the topic of your marriage and returning to Wakanda. Find out his likes and dislikes. Why he joined the army, why he studied engineering. His favourite colour. Anything."_

"Hopefully Erik will speak to me. He’s usually hostile or monosyllabic."

Ramonda smiled at her eldest child,  _"he will. Give Erik my love."_

"I will mother."

_"Love you."_

"Love you too,"

* * *

"Erik is going to chew him up and spit him out mother." Shuri said once Ramonda had disconnected the call.

"Shuri, be nice. However, we should probably begin your training as queen in case he does." Ramonda said after a moment's thought and Shuri laughed.

T'Challa sneezed, as he stood in his hotel room in Cambridge, Massachusetts and he just knew that his mother and sister were discussing him.

* * *

Erik looked at himself in the full-length mirror of his closet door. He had no idea where T'Challa was taking him for dinner, no doubt somewhere expensive and classy, hence, he donned a navy-blue suit, the second button of his crisp white shirt opened and showing off his gold necklace. His black shoes were shined spotless that he could see the light reflecting off them. 

There was a knock on his apartment door and with a sigh and roll of his eyes, Erik went to open it, already knowing who was on the other side.

T'Challa stood before him, wearing black on black, looking every bit as the king he is, and Erik had to resist the temptation to check his cousin out. T'Challa however, had no problem with checking out his husband.

"You look gorgeous Erik."

Erik internally preened at the praise. Pasting on a cocky smirk, "I always look gorgeous cuz." He replied.

"And quite humble too."

"Oh, I am very humble." Erik eyes cast to the left and right of T'Challa, where is your entourage of badass women?"

T'Challa smiled as if he had a secret, "they are around, just out of sight. I figured you would appreciate it for our dinner tonight."

Erik's eyes glanced around, but even with his military training, he was still unable to see them. "I think I prefer seeing them. Being in the military and all that has made me a bit paranoid." He had no idea why he disclosed that bit of information to T’Challa, but it was already out there in the open, unable to take it back.

"I see. Should I call them out."

"No, let's-let's just go to dinner." Erik stepped out into the hallway and turned to lock his apartment. "Where are we going?"

"That is a surprise."

Erik turned around to glare at T'Challa. "I hate surprises. The last time I was surprised, I ended up marrying your ass."

"And my ass if quite fantastic if I do say so myself." T'Challa had an infuriating smirk on his face that Erik was again tempted to violently remove. 

"Don't go tooting your own horn your majesty; no one likes a cocky asshole."

"No," T’Challa said coolly, "but they do like my ass."

Erik rolled his eyes and began walking towards the elevator. "Let's just get this over and done with."

T'Challa remained silent as he followed Erik to the lift. Once they were downstairs, he showed Erik to his car, even going to far as to opening the passenger door, ignoring Erik's grumbling. The car ride to the restaurant was engulfed by a tense silence, Erik shooting down T'Challa's attempts at starting a conversation.

"You do know that we could have gone to the diner down the road from my apartment building." Erik said as he exited the car and looked at the upscale restaurant before him. "The is much better there."

T'Challa came to stand beside him, "I know, but I wanted to give you the best." Erik glanced down to his left to see T'Challa offering him his arm and with a roll of his eyes, Erik looped their arms together.

"Get that look off your face." He said under his breath as they entered the restaurant and was seated immediately.

"Your majesty." A warm female voice sounded, and both men looked up at to see a middle-aged lady approach their table. They both stood at the same time. 

"Maria." T'Challa smiled as he leaned down to kiss her on both cheeks.

"It is so good to see you again King T'Challa." Maria smiled warmly before turning her bright intelligent brown eyes on Erik. "And who is this handsome young man?"

"I am Erik." He introduced himself.

"My husband." T'Challa added and Erik had to stop himself from glaring at him in front of Maria.

Maria smiled brightly at that bit of information. "Oh, that is just wonderful. I am Maria Escobar. I am the owner of this fine establishment."

"It is nice to meet you." Erik smiled gently, missing T'Challa's frown. 

"I will leave you two now. Enjoy yourself."

"Thank you."

Erik and T'Challa retook their seats.

"What do I have to do to get you to smile at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Without any anger or hatred."

Erik pretended to think about it, "how about not telling everyone that we are married, or I know, annulling our marriage? That would be a stepping stone."

"Erik, you know I can't do that." T'Challa sounded tired, more than likely tired of repeating himself.

"What's the use of being a king if you can't use your power to do one little thing for yourself?"

"Being king does not mean using the power I am privileged of receiving from Bast for my own selfish gain."

Erik raised an eyebrow, "'selfish'? You sure as hell used it when you trapped me in this marriage."

"Not this again." T'Challa rolled his eyes.

"That's not very kingly. Rolling your eyes at me." Erik pointed out.

"Well, when I am with you, you make me want to do some very not kingly like things." T'Challa said and suddenly the room felt a little hotter. His words taken out of context sounded very suggestive and Erik looked away from that piercing gaze.

"Erik, please, I do not want to fight tonight." T'Challa pleaded, "I just want us to get to know each other." Erik still would not meet his eyes. "What's your favourite colour?"

"What?" That got Erik to look at him.

"Your favourite colour." T'Challa repeated. "Mine's blue."

"Oh? I thought it would be purple. You know, purple being the official colour of royalty." 

T'Challa snorted, "no, no one in my family likes purple, yes, we wear it but, we don't like it."

Erik cracked a small smile at that, "I like sunset orange."

"Sunset orange?"

"Yeah, you know when the sun is setting, and it is just that right shade of orange that take over the entire sky. That is the shade of orange I like."

"I think you just described the sunsets in Wakanda. We have the most beautiful of sunsets."

The smile on Erik's face fell, "I know. I was there for two days. Saw it the first day but missed it the night of our wedding."

"You are free to come and visit any time you want." T'Challa offered cautiously. "I can take you up to _Panther Mountain_ where you would get an unrestricted view of the most beautiful sunsets you will ever see in your life."

Erik leaned back a little in his chair, blowing out a breath. "Y'all not seeing me in Wakanda until I have a written agreement that I will not be held there against my will again." He joked.

"If that is what you want, I will have the agreement drawn up tonight and presented to you tomorrow." T'Challa said seriously.

"You do know I was joking?"

"And I was being quite serious." T'Challa maintained eye contact with Erik as he spoke. "I want you to visit your homeland as much as you want. I want you to get to know the country, its people and your family. And we  _are_  your family Erik." His tone allowed no argument when he saw Erik opening his mouth in response. "If having a written agreement that you will not be held in Wakanda against your will, is what will get you to visit, then as king that is the least I can do for you."

"I- thank you." 

"No need to thank me." T'Challa reached across the table, covering Erik's hand with his. "Just give us a chance."

Erik was opened his mouth to respond, however, whatever he had to say was interrupted by the arrival of the waiter with their food.

Silence reigned over the table for a few moments as both men ate.

"That young lady who was with you yesterday." T'Challa broke the silence.

"Who? Linda? What about her?"

"How old is she?"

"Fourteen. Why?"

"I think her and Shuri should meet. Two young female genius teenagers. They would make great friends." Just as those words left his mouth, a genuine look of horror came over Erik's face, alarming T'Challa. "What? What is it?"

"T'Challa I am going to give you some very important information. Linda Maxwell, Peter Parker and Shuri are three people who should  _never_  meet each other. They would take over the world."

T'Challa laughed, "stop being ridiculous Erik. They would not take over the world.”

"I am not being ridiculous, two weeks after introducing Peter and Linda, I came home to find them in my apartment building robotic spider legs."

"Robotic spider legs?" T'Challa echoed.

"Don't ask. Just know I am being serious when I say those two can never meet Shuri. They would wreak havoc on the rest of us." Erik shuddered, "and I am not about to become the underlings for three teenage geniuses."

T'Challa laughed at his cousin's worries.

"Ok, fine, go ahead and laugh." Erik himself chuckled a little from hearing T'Challa infectious laugh. "So, that 'king Kitty' thing-"

"Black Panther." T'Challa corrected immediately, mirth shining in his eyes knowing his cousin was just poking fun at him.

"Yes, that," Erik continued, "is everyone who becomes King, becomes Black Panther as well?"

T'Challa nodded, "yes, in addition, Queens have been Black Panthers too. It is not just attached to one sex. Anyone, whether male or female can become the ruler and protector of Wakanda once they have won the challenge.

"Whether by their opponent's death or yielding." Erik supplied.

“Or if they are of the royal family, next in line for the crown and is not challenged." T’Challa elaborated. “However, there are times when the ruler and the protector of Wakanda are two separate persons."

Erik looked a bit perplexed by that. "Please explain."

T'Challa smiled brightly, happy that his husband who had been standoffish and outright hostile since before their marriage was taking an interest in his country's culture and heritage.

"Do you remember when Zuri told us of the two queens who were married to each other about seventy-five years ago?" Erik nodded, and T'Challa continued speaking, "one of the queens ruled Wakanda while the other had taken up the role of protector as she was the stronger of the two in regard to their health."

"And were the people who they ruled over and protected ok with that arrangement?" Erik truly wanted to know. Sharing power of such a magnitude often meant a lot of discord.

"Yes, well as far as I am aware, they were ok with that arrangement. However, since their reign, it has been only one person who has shouldered both mantles."

Erik processed what he was being told. His father's homeland seemed to be filled with a wealth of information and he would be lying if he said he did not want to know everything.

"So, the people were ok with them sharing the power in that way. But, what about children? The current ruler has to have at least one heir and once they die or pass the kingdom onto the heir, then that person is challenged, right?"

T'Challa nodded.

"Then how did that work out for those two queens who were married to each other and were first cousins?"

"They did not have sexual relations if that is what you are asking Erik." T'Challa smiled as Erik's eyes slid from his and he saw a faint tint of redness cover his husband's cheeks.

"I was not asking that. I just wanted to know if they had any offspring." He grumbled.

"They did."

Erik's eyes shot back to his.

"The two queens each had their own lovers, who gave them many children. However, it was the queen who was the ruler who produced an heir first and that child, who was also female, was strong in both mind and body became queen and Black Panther as she was unchallenged."

"Has the throne and mantle of Black Panther always been in your family?"

T'Challa shook his head, "those queens, the ruler was of the Merchant Tribe and the protector of the Water Tribe. They had decided that whoever produced an heir first, the kingdom and mantle would belong to that tribe."

"And when did it become," Erik stopped speaking and thoughtful expression on his face. " _What_ tribe are  _you_ from?"

"The  _Panther Tribe_. All the current members of the royal family are from the Panther Tribe."

Erik rolled his eyes at the reveal, "so original." 

T'Challa was not bothered by his sarcasm, only smiling brightly as this was the longest conversation that have had so far without Erik cursing his presence even once.

Erik opened his mouth to speak but stopped and looked down at his lap.

"Is everything alright?" T'Challa asked.

"Yes," Erik cleared his throat, "I have a question about something Zuri said.”

"Yes, what is it?"

"He said something about being the keeper of the 'heart-shaped herb'. What is that?"

"The heart-shaped herb is that plant that only grows in Wakanda. Originally, it was thought to have been a gift from the Panther Goddess, Bast, but the plant had been mutated by the meteorite of Vibranium that had crashed here on earth." T'Challa explained. "Only the Black Panther can consume the heart-shaped herb."

Erik made a face, "consume? Why would you consume it?"

"It is what give the Black Panther his or her powers that are equal to that of a super-soldier."

Erik was stunned, " _powers_?" T'Challa smiled, and Erik swore he looked a bit smug. 

"I have  _enhanced_ speed, agility, strength, endurance, healing and senses." T'Challa boasted. "I am able to see in total darkness, track any scent and hear an enemy's heart beat."

"Bullshit." Erik sat back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest, a challenge in his words and on his face. "I call bullshit."

T'Challa accepted his challenge. "I know that your phone has gone off  _eight_ times in your pocket in the last five minutes and from the short vibration sound, they are all text messages."

Erik removed his cell phone from his pants pocket and opened the screen to see the notification that he indeed did have  _eight_ text messages. Since he already had his phone out at the table, he opened the first message and felt his stomach drop to his feet. And if what else T'Challa said about his enhanced senses, then he could hear Erik's heart begin to race.

**_Peter_ ** **(7:08 p.m.) _: 'She knows!'_**

**_Peter_ ** **(7:08 p.m.) _:'May knows!'_**

**_Peter_ ** **(7:08 p.m.) _: 'May knows I am Spiderman!'_**

**_Peter_ ** **(7:08 p.m.) _: 'OMG!! She took the suit!!!'_**

**_Peter_ ** **(7:08 p.m.) _:  'Mr. Stark is going to kill me! May is going to kill Mr. Stark!'_**

**_Peter_ ** **(7:08 p.m.) _:  'Erik! May knows that you know I am Spiderman and did not tell her!'_**

**_Peter_ ** **(7:08 p.m.) _: 'I am sorry, and she says she wants you over for dinner on Sunday.'_**

**_May_ ** **(7:15 p.m.) _: 'Erik N'Jadaka Stevens, come over for dinner on Sunday. I am going to murder your ass. :)’_**

He checked the time on his phone and saw that it was **7:45 p.m.** "Could you excuse me, just for a sec?" Erik asked, even as he got up from his seat. He had to make a phone call, preferably somewhere far from T'Challa’s superhuman hearing. Erik made his way over to the bar, where he hoped was far enough away and called Peter, doing his best not to fidget as he waited for the call to be picked up.

_“Erik?”_

“Peter, what the hell?!” He did his best to keep his voice low, but still let Peter know that he was yelling.

 _“I am so sorry Erik!”_ Peter apologised again the kid sounded close to tears.

“How the hell did May find out? And the short version please, I will get the long version when I see you on Sunday.” He heard Peter sniffle before he started to explain.

_“I was trying on the suit once Mr. Stark had returned it and I had no idea she was in the apartment, much less standing right behind me until she said, ‘what the fuck?!’”_

“Don’t curse Peter.” Erik absentmindedly chastised him.

_“I swear I did not mean to get you into this mess Erik. Once she saw me, everything came spilling out, and she took the suit and grounded me.”_

Erik rubbed his forehead, feeling the start of a headache. “Peter, what did you mean by ‘once Mr. Stark had returned it’?” There was a suspicious silence on the other end of the call. “Peter?” Erik growled.

_“I may have almost gotten myself, along with a ferry full of passengers killed. In addition to said ferry being split in two.”_

“Peter?”

_“Yes?”_

“I am going to kill you myself on Sunday. In the meantime, keep yourself quiet and out of anymore trouble.

_“Ok Erik.”_

“Hey,” Erik said, his heart squeezing tight for his little brother, “chin up kid, I will talk to May on Sunday and get this all sorted out.”

_“Thank you, Erik. I really appreciate this. I like being Spiderman.”_

“I know you do kid. Talk to you later. Love you.”

_“Love you too.”_

Erik ended the call and released a deep breath. “Fuck me.” He whispered before making his way back over to T’Challa.

"Is everything alright Erik?" T’Challa asked immediately upon his return.

Erik sat down heavily, chugged the rest of his drink and flagged down the waiter for another. "Everything is peachy keen." He said once he got his next drink. “Couldn’t you hear my conversation with your king kitty ears?”

"I made an effort not to listen, but, Erik if you are in trouble I can help you."

“Oh, I am sure you would love that." Erik sneered. "Rushing in on your white horse to save your husband. I am sure you want me indebted to you for the rest of my life.

T'Challa frowned, "Erik that is not-"

"It's just a family matter, none of your concern." Erik replied coldly. Upon seeing the sudden downfallen look on T’Challa’s face, Erik felt bad.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “I just received some less than stellar news.”

“I understand. Still if there is anything I can help with, please let me know.”

Erik looked at T’Challa, earnestness written all over his face. “I had wanted to let you know that you may decide on where we should spend our honeymoon. However, we can only go after I have completed my thesis and successfully defended it.”

T’Challa smiled brightly, “I accept your conditions.”

The two men stared at each other and Erik felt the urge to avert his eyes when the silence was on the edge of becoming awkward. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand, yeah? I know a great ice cream place we can go to for dessert.” He suggested much to T’Challa’s delight.

T’Challa settled their bill, and soon they were on their way to the location Erik had provided.

“What the hell flavour did you choose?” Erik asked warily as he eyed the mixture of yellow, pink and orange ice cream packed on top of T’Challa’s cone, that made his own cookies and cream ice cream look boring.

“Diabetes apparently.” T’Challa’s face did a funny thing when he tasted it.

“I can see that. Do you want another one? Or do you want to switch.”

T’Challa looked up from his ice cream to look at his husband. “You’d really switch ice creams?”

Erik shrugged and looked away, feeling bashful for some reason. “It’s not a big deal. I suggested it, I don’t want you eat something that you do not like.”

“It’s ok. It’s not awful, just _sweet_.”

Instead of going back to the car, Erik and T’Challa walked along the side-walk eating their desserts. They walked in silence pass the other closed businesses, until their feet took them to the park.

“I come here whenever I need to breathe.” Erik told T’Challa as they sat on a bench facing the empty playground that during the days no matter what time, children were always there running around, screaming and enjoying their childhood.

T’Challa nodded, “I understand.” He stared out at the land, bathed in silver moonlight. “There’s a small water fall, some distance from the palace that I run to whenever the burden of being king get to be too much.”

Erik looked over at his cousin, registering how close they were sitting that their thighs were pressed together. “Just king? Not the protector as well?” He asked.

“Being the protector is easy; but being king.” He sighed into the cool night’s air. “It is hard to be a good man and a good king.” He confessed.

“Well, if it’s you,” Erik turned his face to look up at the full moon, “I am sure you will achieve being both a good man and a good king.”

“Thank you, Erik.”

Silence settled between them, like the gentle night breeze, before T’Challa spoke again.

"W'Kabi was asking after you."

Erik thought for a moment. "W'Kabi? Is he that dude with the blue blanket?"

T'Challa successfully did not smile at Erik's reference to the Border Tribe's robe. "Yes, his parents were killed by Klaue thirty years ago when he invaded Wakanda and stole the vibranium."

"Oh." Erik was taken aback. He was not aware of that.

"He sends his 'thanks'. He also said to inform you that you now have a lifelong friend in him whether you like it or not."

Erik chuckled, “there really is no getting away from you Wakandans is there?” His words held no heat, just amusement.

“No.” T’Challa’s eyes shined as bright as his smile. "Does your family know that you are married?" He asked, and Erik looked at him as if T'Challa had just told him that he set a box of kittens on fire.

"Fuck no.” He responded immediately. “No one aside from Ross knows that we are married. And I plan to keep it that way."

"Why? I am sure that your family would be happy for you."

"They would ask too many questions. Questions that I am not ready to answer or even have some of the answers to."

“Oh.”

Erik could see from the corner T’Challa’s disappointed look and felt like an ass.

“So, do you have a badass suit like _Batman_.” He asked wanting to lighten the mood.

T’Challa chuckled, “I do, but it is much better than Batman’s, since it is Shuri who designed and created it.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“However, there is one drawback.”

Erik raised an eyebrow, “yeah, what’s that?”

“Since I wear the suit all the time, when I activate it, whatever I am wearing over or under it disintegrates.”

“Over or under…wait, hold up,” Erik turned his body to face T’Challa. “Does that mean when you have on the suit, you are literally butt naked?”

“As a new born baby.”

Erik began laughing, so hard that his stomach cramped with the force of it. “But, you said,” Erik took a deep breath, held it and then released it before trying to speak. “You said you wear it all the time, but yet you have to activate it?”

T’Challa pointed to the necklace of silver panther teeth that Erik knew he always wore. “The suit is kept in this and is linked with my neural pathway. Once I think of activating the suit it happens.”

Erik stared at the necklace, reaching his hand out to touch it before remembering his manners. “May I?” He looked up at T’Challa who nodded. Erik ran his fingers along the change the silver teeth. “I can see why your country isolates itself. Tech like this, if it gets out into the world and falls into the wrong hands, there would be World Wars until the end of time.”

T’Challa’s dark hand covered his, holding it close to his chest. “That is why my people and I cannot thank you enough Erik, for bring back Klaue and the vibranium that he had stolen.”

“I was only able to bring back a small amount.” Erik averted his eyes, “it was not all of it.”

“But still, at least that amount is back where it belongs and won’t be used for nefarious purposes.”

Erik nodded and tugged slightly at his hand, which T’Challa released with some reluctance. “It’s getting late, could you take me home.”

“Of course.” T’Challa stood, holding out his hand for Erik to take which he did. And if they held hands all the way back to where T’Challa had parked his car, Erik tried really hard not to think about it or the warm feeling he felt in his chest.


	4. I Found Peace (In Your Violence)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik learns the reason his father left Wakanda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEW CHAPTER!!!!! :D
> 
> If you see any errors, please POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.
> 
> Title: Silence - Marshmello ft. Khalid

"Quick, tell me, just  _how_ angry is May?" Erik asked as soon as Peter had swung open the apartment's front door. 

"Is that Erik? Come on in sweetie." May answered before Peter could.

Both Erik and Peter looked at each other and winced. "Don't bother, I have my answer." Squaring his shoulders, Erik entered the apartment, a big smile on his face. "Auntie May! You are looking lovely and young as ever."

May gave Erik a flat look and Peter rolled his eyes at Erik's blatant compliments, knowing his words were doing jack-shit for them.

"Save your words." She said as she tossed a salad. "You are going to need them to talk me out of killing your ass." May shoved the salad bowl into his hands. "You and Peter set the table. Dinner will be ready in five minutes."

"We are in so much trouble." Peter whispered as he and Erik did as instructed.

"Don't sweat it lil' man, I got a plan to get us out of this."

Peter looked up at Erik, "plan? What plan?"

"I'm going to throw myself under the bus."

"Wha-Erik-"

"No." Erik placed his hands on Peter's shoulders, making sure that he had the teen's full attention. "Just let her rant, cuss us out and get it out of her system. Then when the time is right, I am going to throw myself under the bus. Ok?" He squeezed Peter's shoulders for emphasis.

Peter nodded, "ok."

"Good." Erik kissed his forehead. "Time to face the music." He whispered as May exited the kitchen with her famous roast chicken.

"So, who wants to tell me why I am only just finding out that my child is  _Spider-Man_?"

Erik whistled lowly, "can't even give a man the chance to get some food in this stomach auntie?" He said as he took a seat.

May smiled sweetly, "you are lucky I have not gut you as yet Erik for keeping this from me."

Both Erik and Peter looked at each other in alarm.

"Just how long have you been Spider-Man?" Peter opened his mouth to respond, "wait, don't answer that." His mouth shut with an audible click.

"Listen, Auntie May-"

"No." Her tone was sharp, and Erik sat up a bit straighter. "Listen here, I lost my husband,  _both_  your uncle to violence. I prayed daily that no harm would come to you Erik while you were in the military and now I find out that my child is the vigilante  _Spider-Man."_  May looked as if she was going to start crying and the two boys glanced at each other again. "Do you have any idea what this is doing to me? I am far too fucking young to be this stressed out."

"I totally agree." Peter piped up, and Erik wanted to smack him. "I am perfectly safe out there May! One of my powers alerts to me to any immediate danger, and I heal really fast and I can lift an entire building off me in the event one does fall on me."

Erik and May stared wide eyed at Peter, who was looking at them like a puppy. 

"How do you know you can lift a building?" May asked dangerously. 

"One may have fallen on me when I fought the Vulture earlier this year." Peter mumbled. "Ow!" he glared at Erik who was taking a drink of his iced tea.

"Did ya' sense that Spidey-Boy?"  He mocked.

"Stop kicking each other under the table." May chastised before Peter’s words registered. "Oh my God.  _That was you_." She pinned him with a look and Erik knew they were both fucked. "You crashed that plane on Coney Island."

"Shit." Erik mumbled under his breath, hearing the change of May's tone of voice. 

"That was all over the news Peter! You could have died!" She yelled.

"But I didn't!" Peter's voice went high. "I am almost indestructible!"

"'Almost' does not mean completely Peter!" May yelled back and Erik did not think he had ever seen her looking so angry before.

Erik looked back and forth between the two as if he were watching a tennis match. He wondered how long it would take for the neighbours to call and the police and just how many had heard that Peter was Spider-man from how loud they were yelling. Peter’s and May’s voices kept rising, as was Erik’s blood pressure.

"I am married!" He yelled over the two. Silence immediately befell the small apartment as aunt and nephew stared at him comically. 

"I beg your pardon."

Erik sighed, "I am married." He hated the fact that he outed himself, but he needed to have May focus on something else aside from Peter and him being a teenage vigilante. 

May opened and closed her mouth a few times.

"When, where, how, why?" Peter spoke in a rush. 

" **When** : during that mission I was on, to take the wanted criminal Klaue back to Wakanda to stand trial." Erik began ticking the points off his fingers. " **Where** : The ceremony took place in Wakanda. **How** : the ceremony was in front of almost the _entire fucking country_." He emphasised. "My husband and I exchanged vows. And to answer the million-dollar question,  **why** : it turns out that my father was a Prince in Wakanda and brother to the late King T'Chaka and when I went there, it was revealed.  Long story short, I would have had to either challenge T'Challa for the throne or marry him. I chose the latter."

Erik explained, waiting to be bombarded with even more questions from the twin stares he was receiving. "Any more questions?" He asked, when the silence stretched on a bit too long for his liking.

"So, you're a prince?" Peter asked, trying to wrap his head around what he just heard.

"Yes."

"And T'Challa, he's your husband and the king of Wakanda?"

"Yes." 

"Why didn't you tell us?!" Pure excitement shone in Peter's eyes. "This is too freaking cool! You're married to a king!" Erik couldn't help but smile, Peter's excitement contagious. "So, are you going to live in Wakanda? Can I come visit?"

"Whoa," Erik laughed, "time out. I am not moving to Wakanda, I am staying right here. As I told the entire royal family, I had no interest in claiming my birth right and I told T'Challa that one of the conditions to me marrying him was me continuing to live here."

Peter fell back in his seat, "this is just too cool. I cannot believe it." he turned to look at May, his smile falling at the look on her face. Erik turned to look as well and felt concern slam into him.

"May?" Peter and Erik exchanged a worried glance.

Erik leaned forward, "May?"

In response May dropped her head in her hands, releasing a tired sigh. "I have something for you Erik."

"Ok?" He looked at Peter who shrugged, having no idea what she was talking about. May slowly got up from her chair and disappeared into her bedroom. "Ok, what the fuck man?" Erik hissed.

"I have no idea." Peter was still looking at where May had disappeared. "At least she's not screaming at us anymore." He smiled weakly at Erik. 

"Yeah." Erik was distracted, still staring at where May had disappeared, his anxiety increasing when he saw her return holding something in her hands. A book that he vaguely recalled seeing in the possession of his father. 

May sat back in her seat before placing a leather-bound book on the table between her and Erik, who was looking at it as if it would attack him any second.

He reached out to touch it, the leather warm under his fingertips. "Dad's journal." He breathed. He recalled some memories from long ago, when his folks were still alive, his father would sit at the kitchen table, scribbling away in it as his mother read silently, curled up in the armchair by the window and Erik himself lying on the floor of the living room putting together a puzzle. His father would glance up occasionally, looking at his wife with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes, before turning his dark brown gaze on Erik, giving him a smile and a wink. 

"He left it in his will for you," May explained, “with a letter attached to it that I should give it to you at the right time."

Erik glanced up at her, confusion in his voice, "'the right time', what does that even mean?"

"I guess he meant if you ever found out about you being a Wakandan prince." Peter so helpfully offered.

Erik ran a hand though his hair, his chest felt tight and his eyes burned. "I-" he got up hastily from his chair, ignoring the twin looks of concern from May and Peter, "I'll be back." He took off towards the bathroom, only allowing his tears to fall when he was safely behind the closed door. Sinking down to the cold bathroom floor, he braced his back against the door, as more tears fell. 

"Goddamn it dad,  _why_  did you leave me?" He whispered in the privacy of the bathroom. Just then his kimoyo beads beeped, signalling that he received an email. Checking the preview, he scoffed. It was sent from T'Challa, the written promise that he would be free to come and go as he pleased if he ever visited Wakanda. "Perfect fucking time cuz."

Wiping his face, Erik stood, making sure that he was presentable, he left the safety of the bathroom, where he retook his seat at the table and restarted his attempts at having his and Peter's lives spared by May. 

* * *

Erik's father's journal sat on his kitchen table in the same exact spot where he had put it when he had gotten home from May's three days ago and there it stayed mocking him at every turn. For three days he ignored, not wanting to see his dad's final words.

The fourth day found him in a foul mood. He had over slept causing him to miss a meeting with his academic supervisor. After having called and profusely apologizing, even with his supervisor being so understanding and telling him to take the day to rest he still felt bad. He then burnt his toast, his coffee scalded his tongue, his phone crashed, and he was unable to fix it himself resorting in him having to purchase another one as soon as the current thunderstorm was over. 

Outside, it was currently storming, the place so dark that streetlights had come on. Erik sat on the couch, wrapped in the soft wool blanket May had sent him in a care package during his days in the military, his mood just as dark as the sky. The apartment was quiet save for the rain and wind rattling his widows as he stared at the journal wondering if his dad had gotten a chance to write in it the morning of the day he and Erik's mother had died or was his last thought from the day before. 

Not being able to stand the silent agony he was putting himself through, Erik got up, still wrapped in his blanket and went to put on some tea. While the water was boiling, he retrieved the journal, bringing it back to the couch with him. Erik ran his fingers over it, feeling the wear of the old leather and for the first time in a long time he felt as if his father was right there beside him. 

The kettle whistled and once his had his tea in front of him as well, Erik cautiously undid the cord bounding it and opened it to the first page. Erik, expecting his dad's thought, musing, memories did not expect to find a letter written to him on the very first page. Checking the date, he was a bit confused until he did the math and realised his dad had written it when Erik had just turned a year old.

Flipping through the journal, Erik's eyes and brain registered that his dad had written him letters for each year he became a year older. Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, he closed the journal and tipped his head back, resting it against the armrest. Taking a few deep breaths, he reopened the journal and stopped in his tracks. On the random page he had flipped to, the very first line stood out like a flashing red light in the middle of a dark ocean.

**_'Hate and resentment will eat you alive. It almost consumed me. Ensure that it never does so to you my son.'_ **

Intrigued by those words, Erik abandoned all thoughts of skipping back to the first letter and stayed on that page. The letter was dated, ' ** _February 9, 2003'_  **when he turned sixteen years old. 

**_'My son, today your mother and I celebrate sixteen glorious years of being blessed with you as our child. We are so proud of you and all you have accomplished. We have watched you grow from a boy into a wonderful young man. I can still recall vividly, the day I turned sixteen years old, as it was the same day I grew hateful and resentful towards my older brother.'_ **

Erik's eyebrows hit his hairline at that declaration, the words in solid black and white before his eyes in his father’s neat script. He had never known his father to show an ounce of dislike for a person, much less admit to outright hate for his own brother. Sinking lower in the couch, Erik read the rest of his father's letters until three o'clock the next morning. At the last and final word, he closed the journal, his eyes red and gritty from reading too much and the lack of sleep.

"Holy shit." His voice was strained. Closing his tired eyes, Erik laid in the couch, reflecting on what he had just read.

**_‘…for three years I plotted to have my brother killed…’_ **

Those words were burned into his brain.

**_‘…I was ashamed of myself for thinking those heinous thoughts…’_ **

Erik felt as if he was going to be sick.

**_‘…I needed to leave, or I would have done something I would have regretted…’_ **

In his final letters to his son, N'Jobu had informed him of his resentment towards his brother, his reasons for this resentment, why he left Wakanda and never returned, not even attempting to keep in contact with his family or telling Erik about them until he had inadvertently discovered them.

"How the fuck am I supposed to face them now?" Erik sat up and dragged in deep breaths. Looking down, his chest felt tight from the book sitting inconspicuously in his lap. "I need some fucking sleep." He sighed, slowly raising from the couch and making his way to his bedroom.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was unable to find a birth date for Erik, so I used Michael B. Jordan's real birth date.


	5. It's Been Written In The Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't fight kismet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is scary as hell, writing a sequel for a piece of work that should have been a one-shot, that everyone loves. I am writing this multi-chapter fic and I am second guessing myself with each word I write. 
> 
> It's scary as hell, but I know that you guys look forward to each new chapter and so I will do my best to continue putting out excellent reading material for you all. :)
> 
> In addition, I had wanted to publish this yesterday as a Christmas gift to you all. However, I came down with a cold overnight and my head is all stuffed up and foggy and I cannot feel my legs even when I am standing. I am feeling a little bit better today and wanted to get it out before the clock struck 12:00 midnight and it was not longer Christmas day.
> 
> I hope you all had a great day!! :)
> 
> If you see any errors, please POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

Erik released a huge sigh as he exited the seminar room. Tugging at the knot in his tie and the first button of his dress shirt, he made his way down the corridor of the lecture building, down the stairs and out into the bright sunlight. Taking out his shades, Erik put them on to minimize the effects of the sun's rays as he sought a shaded spot under a tree to sit and rest. 

Once he was settled, Erik took out his phone and sent out mass text message.

**_Erik Stevens (11:43 a.m.): 'Guess who is now Dr. Erik Stevens.' :D_ **

Within seconds of sending the messages, he received a ton of messages in return, congratulating him. Before he got a chance to open the first one, his phone went off with an incoming call from May.

"Hey auntie." He smiled.

 _"Don't 'hey auntie' me you jerk."_  May greeted him, but there was no anger in her voice.  _"All I get is a text message informing me that you aced your thesis defense?"_

Erik laughed, "don't worry, you're not the only one who received that text message."

_"Listen here child, I do not care whoever else received that text message. I am your aunt and I deserve a goddamn phone call."_

"You are right. I apologise for my rudeness. When I have defended my next thesis, I will definitely give you a call." Erik joked.

_"Go fuck yourself Erik."_

"Geez, that hurt auntie May."

_"Well, you deserved it. Congrats though honey. I am so proud of you and know that your parents are too."_

At her words, Erik had to swallow the lump that suddenly developed in his throat. All throughout completing and defending his work, he tried desperately not to think about his parents not being there to see his accomplishments. Feeling his eyes start to burn, Erik decided to end the call.

"Hey, thanks for the call but I have to go now."

_"Ok, sweetheart. Take care."_

"You too."

Erik ended the call to see that he had received a message from Ross.

**_Everett Ross (11:52 a.m.): 'Congrats kid. Knew you could do it! :)'_ **

The smile forming on Erik's face immediately faded when his phone began ringing again with a number he knew. 

"Shouldn't you be in bed king kitty?" He heard an amused chuckle over the phone and Erik's lips twitched.

_"I just wanted to call and give you my congratulations."_

Erik was not surprised that T'Challa knew the date of his Ph. D defense. "How are you so sure that I was successful?" His tone flat.

T'Challa chuckled again,  _"you belong to a family of geniuses. Of course, you would have been successful on your first attempt."_

"Ah, right," Erik leaned back against the tree, looking up at the clear blue sky that he could see between spaces in the leaves. "You studied at  _Oxford_  as a  _Rhode Scholar_. Got your Ph.D. in Physics among other things."

 _"Careful there husband, it sounds as if you find me interesting."_ T'Challa teased.

"Not interested in you in the least T. Just did my homework so I knew what I was up against." That was not a completed lie. Erik _always_ did his homework, whether it was academic, military, or wanting to know more about the man he was forced to marry, so that he could defend himself when they were in each other’s presence.

T'Challa laughed again, but this time, it sounded darker, huskier and Erik felt a shiver of something h refused to identify run down his spine.  _"I can make you experience what it would feel like to definitely be up against me."_

Erik's mouth went dry at the blatant pass at him and he had to lick his lips. "I am hanging up now."

 _"Erik, I am calling because we had a deal."_ T'Challa's smooth voice reminded him.

"I remembered Bagheera." Erik sneered, "I really should not be surprised that you are calling. I am sure that you were counting down the days. You just could not wait for today could you?" Erik heard an ominous creaking and loosened his grip on his phone

 _"Erik, can we please not fight. I just wanted to confirm that you will indeed uphold your end of our bargain. And to congratulate you on earning your Ph.D."_ T'Challa was sincere when he spoke again,  _"I am proud of you and I cannot wait to see you Erik. I have missed you."_

Erik swallowed at hearing those words. "How can you just admit to something like that?"

_"Like what? I do miss you. We have not had a lot of time to get to know each other since getting married and I do wish to get to know you husband."_

"There is really not much to know." Erik wanted this call to end. "I am a simple guy really."

 _"I highly doubt that."_  Erik could hear the smirk in T'Challa's voice. " _I not only want to know about you, but about the aunt and uncle I never had the pleasure of meeting."_

 **"…** ** _I plotted to have my brother killed_** **."** The memory of reading those damning words slammed into Erik like a freight train. "Listen man, I have to go. I have a few things that needs taking care of before I can fly out."

_"Ok, look forward to seeing you, Erik."_

Erik ended the call without so much as another word.

* * *

Ross stood in Erik's bedroom, watching as he packed a bag of clothes and toiletries. "You are being dramatic Erik." 

Erik paid him no mind as he continued packing as if the world was ending. 

"I know you did not want to marry him. Still want nothing to do with him, but to break your word,  _like this_." This time Erik spared him a glance. Ross sighed, "running away is not the answer. And, you gave T'Challa your word."

"Yeah well, for once my word means shit." Erik huffed angrily as he flung a shirt in his bag. "And I am _not_ running away. I am actively retreating."

Tired of standing, Ross took a seat on Erik's bed, his back pressed against the pillows and headboard. "Call it whatever you want kid, but the fact remains, you are running away after making a deal with your husband."

Erik snapped with anger, "can you not refer to him like that?"

"In the eyes of the law, he  _is_  your husband Erik. Whether you like it or not." Ross watched as Erik's packing decreased in vigour. "Hey, come sit with me." He patted the empty spot beside him and with a huff, Erik walked around the bed and mirrored Ross's position with his back against the headboard. "What's bothering you?"

Erik silently cursed Ross’s outstanding observational skills, it was part of what made him such a damn good CIA operative, seeing what others could not. He stared down at his lap, his head bent and not meeting Ross's inquisitive eyes.

"Erik?" Ross tilted his head, trying to look at Erik's face. "Did T'Challa...do something?" Erik shook his head in the negative. "Then what?"

"My dad." Erik sniffled, the words forcing themselves pass his lips. "Or at least he was plotting to do something."

Ross was confused. "Your dad? When was he plotting something?"

"It doesn't matter." Erik made to move off the bed, only to be held back by Ross's hand on his arm. 

"Clearly it matters if it has you packing to run instead of going on your honeymoon."

Erik released a deep sigh, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling of his bedroom, a tear escaped his eye to disappear in his hairline. "My dad left his journal with Auntie May, for me to receive it, only if I ever found out about his side of the family which I did."

Ross remained silent, not wanting to say anything now that he had Erik talking. 

"In his journal were letters to me. The one he wrote to me for my sixteenth birthday, informed me that he was plotting to kill his older brother."

If Ross had not been sitting, he is sure that he would have fallen over. That is the last thing he had expected to hear, considering what he knew of N'Jobu. 

"Did he say why he was plotting the assassination?" Erik nodded his head, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe at the wetness at his eyes.

Ross could see what this knew unwanted knowledge was doing to Erik. He finally understood why Erik wanted to run instead of going back to Wakanda to begin his honeymoon. That's when he felt as if he had been doused with a bucket of iced cold water. "Wait a minute, do you think T'Challa or the rest of his family knows about this?"

"No." Erik's voice was raspy and he cleared his throat. "He said in his journal that he kept his cards close to this chest and left before he did anything. He knew what was happening and did not like the man he was becoming, so he removed himself from the equation."

"Smart move. Do you want to inform T'Challa of what you found out or do you want to keep it to yourself?" Ross questioned softly.

"I want to take it to my grave." Erik answered, his brows pulled together in a moment of thought. "No one can find out about this Ross. _No one_ , especially Auntie Ramonda."

Ross was confused by his statement, "The Queen Mother? Why?"

Erik tilted his head to look Ross in the eye, "she's the reason why my father was plotting the assassination of his older brother, Crown Prince of Wakanda."

 


	6. Pina Colada

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> White sand beaches and displeased husbands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see any errors, please POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

Erik squinted as he looked out at the clear ocean water, the sun reflecting viciously off the white sand beach he currently stood on. 

"It's good to have you back Erik-Kun." An accented voice said. 

Erik turned, smiling as his eyes landed on the petite build of the inn-owner where he was currently staying. "Makoto-Chan." He greeted as they each gave a slight bow of respect to each other. "It's good to be back." Erik looked out again at the sea, already daydreaming about diving into its blue depths, a dreamy smile on his face. 

  
"You look happy Erik." Makoto observed, a knowing look in her dark soulful eyes. "I pray that happiness lasts."

"Yeah, me too."

"Enjoy your stay Erik." Makoto bowed and Erik returned it. 

Erik chuckled to himself, "I do intend to enjoy the hell out of this place." He was contented with where he currently was, unaware of the irate king on the other side of the planet.

* * *

 _"Do you know where my husband is Agent Ross?"_  

Everett, squinted his eyes against the harsh brightness of his phone screen, trying to see who was calling. "T'Challa?" He questioned when the phone was back at his ear.

 _"Yes, Everett, it is ‘T'Challa’."_ He sounded rather annoyed, but Everett remained quiet.  _"Do you know where Erik is?"_

"No," Everett sat up, cursing Erik in his head. "The last conversation we had, he was packing to travel to Wakanda for your honeymoon." He was not telling the most powerful king in the world that his husband had ran away.

_"He is not here Everett, and no one seems to be able to find him."_

"He took off his beads." Everett said. Erik was smart, he would dump the tracker.

T'Challa sighed the sigh of a tired man and Everett felt bad for him.  _"I tried those first when Erik did not turn up at the appointed time. Shuri traced them to his apartment, but his place is empty, and he left his phone as well."_

"Your majesty, I honestly do not know what to tell you right now." Everett was going to murder Erik for getting him mixed up in his domestic quarrel. "I have no idea where he might have gone."

 _"I figured.”_ T’Challa sounded do dejected and Everett was this close to tearing his hair out of his head thanks to his wayward kid. _“I just wanted to give it a shot. Good night Everett."_

"Good night T'Challa." Hanging up, Everett dialled a number he has only ever had to dial once before. "The fuck are you Erik Stevens?" He growled tiredly the moment the called was picked up.

_"Heeeey Everett, how ya' doing?"_

Everett glared at the darkness in his room. "Erik, where are you right now?" He strained to hear anything in the background to see if it would clue him in on Erik's location, when Erik began speaking again.

_"Well, right now I am sitting on a beach sipping some blue fruity drink and it is mighty refreshing."_

"Erik, T'Challa called me just now, not the least bit amused that his husband ran off on what should have been the start of their honeymoon."

 _"Is that so?"_ Erik was not the least bit disturbed at hearing the news.  _"And I did not want to get married, so we are both miserable right now."_

Everett sighed, "are you sure you want to so this Erik? A good man, even one like T'Challa can only be pushed so far."

_"Everett, I honestly have better things to do than honeymoon with my forced husband in some country I want no part of."_

"I know that kid, but have you taken T'Challa's feelings into consideration?" Everett asked, wondering if Erik ever tried to see this situation from T'Challa's point of view. He highly doubted it, but still he had to ask. "Have you asked him how he feels about being forced to marry someone just because royal customs dictated it?"

 _"Everett,"_  the way Erik said his name made Everett feel as if Erik was calling him an idiot.  _"You were there right? During that dinner the night before the wedding, during the wedding and the reception. T'Challa was ready to jump my bones with no_ _hesitation whatsoever. He was gagging for it."_

"Too much information Erik." Everett said as Erik ranted.

_"Whenever we are in the same space, all rules and laws about personal space are non-existent. So, I highly doubt he feels anyway but thrilled about being married to me, considering he is the one pushing for this honeymoon."_

"Then consider how he must be feeling right now, with you having disappeared to only God knows where, when he was very much looking forward to spending time with you." Everett interjected hurriedly. The silence that followed told him that Erik was considering his words.

_"Either shitty or pretty pissed off."_

"The latter. Now, put on your big boy pants, call your husband and tell him where you are. Go on your honeymoon, stop running away and talk to T'Challa about what was written in your father's journal."

Erik laughed sarcastically,  _"yeah, I will do all that, except for that last bit. I am taking that shit with me to the grave and I am burning the journal as soon as I am back in the States."_

"Erik, whatever you choose to do I will wholeheartedly support you, just call your damn husband. You're a grown ass man, act like it." Everett listened to Erik mock him in a high-pitched voice and laughed. "Very mature, I am going back to sleep now."

_"G'night Everett. I'll bring you back a_ _souvenir."_

"Ok kid."

* * *

T'Challa stood with his back straight, shoulders squared and arms behind his back staring out through one of the huge floor to ceiling windows of his room at the green jungle below. He could hear the sound of the waterfall in the distance. T'Challa grimaced in the privacy of his room, he had wanted to share this view and many more with Erik. He had wanted to show him the Wakandan sunrise and sunset on what should have been their honeymoon, but his strong-willed husband was anywhere to be seen or found.

His thoughts were broken when his bedroom doors burst opened suddenly, Shuri appearing through them with a huge grin on her face. 

"I found him!"

That declaration had T'Challa whipping around. "Where is he?" He barely managed not to growl. He really wanted to try with Erik, but the man was not making it easy and T'Challa's patience only went so far.

"Okinawa, Japan." Shuri informed him. "What are you going to do when you find him?" She asked, watching as her brother ordered his guards to get a jet ready. 

"Convince him to willingly come back here with me or drag him kicking and screaming if I have to."

"Don't be too hard on him brother!" Shuri called out to T'Challa's back as the doors swung closed behind him. 

* * *

Fourteen hours later (thanks to Wakandan technology) found T'Challa in Okinawa, Japan. 

"My king, what do you wish for us to do?" Okoye asked.

It was already night and even though T'Challa wanted nothing more than find Erik and drag him back to Wakanda, he knew that nothing good would be accomplished that way. "Let us check into the hotel. Tomorrow, I will go to Erik myself and speak with him."

"And what am I to do while you and Prince Erik kiss and make up?" Okoye smirked at the look T'Challa threw her way.

"Play tourist." T'Challa said. "That's an order from your king." He added when he saw her open her mouth to argue. "Take a break. I will deal with my husband on my own."

"Yes, my king." Okoye saluted him.

That night T'Challa laid awake in bed, his mind alive with too many thoughts for him to sleep, many of them about Erik. He understood that Erik wanted no part of this marriage, but _this_ , running away, was too harsh.

Erik had given him his word that they would spend time together after he had defended his Ph.D. thesis. T'Challa had even held up his end of the bargain by providing him with written evidence bearing the king's signature that Erik would be free to come and go as he pleased in Wakanda without fear of being kept there against his will.

T'Challa was beyond annoyed and irritated, he was downright incensed. He wanted to show Erik what it meant to anger the king of Wakanda, but at the same time, he wanted to feel that strong, muscular body beneath his again. He wanted to strip Erik down and worship his body. T'Challa groaned as he felt himself harden at the image his mind conjured up of Erik in the throes of passion, being held in T'Challa's arms. 

He had no idea how one man could be so infuriating and drop dead gorgeous at the same time. Knowing he would not be getting any sleep as thoughts about Erik continued to plague him, T'Challa sat up in bed. Folding his legs under him, T'Challa closed his eyes and breathed deeply, holding it for a few minutes before releasing it. He repeated the action for a few minutes until he calmed, enough to fall asleep. And if his dreams that night were about golden skin, dark brown eyes and a wicked smile, no one had to know but him.

* * *

Erik was enjoying his solo vacation. He had visited the Fukushu-En Garden, Shuri Castle (just because his baby cousin and the Ryukyu Kingdom had something in common) and the Okinawa Prefectural Museum and Art Museum for sightseeing. But every afternoon and evening found him swimming in the ocean. He loved going to the ocean with his family as a youngster; his father often teased him that in another lie he was a merman.

On the fourth day of what he would soon find out was his last hurrah before he was unceremoniously thrusted back into the real world, Erik had entered his room, dripping wet when he realised that he was not alone. Standing at the window that looked out at the beach was T'Challa and Erik's good mood suddenly soured.

"Hello Erik." T'Challa's smooth voice washed over him and Erik could tell that the king was angry.

Removing his towel from around his neck, Erik walked further into his room towards the sliding door. Stepping out onto the small patio he placed his towel over the railing so that it would dry properly. T'Challa came to stand beside the door, watching his broad back.

"I am not even surprised." Erik glanced over his shoulder at T'Challa. "I knew you would track me down eventually. It was not a matter of 'if' but 'when'. Although, I am surprised that it took you this long to find me." He chuckled.

T'Challa's eyes narrowed. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Fucking hilarious."

"You gave me your word Erik."

Erik really wanted to punch something, preferably the face of the man behind him. "What did you really hope to achieve by coming after me?"

T'Challa stepped close to Erik; close enough for him to feel his body heat and to smell the scent of the ocean water still clinging to Erik's skin. "To bring my wayward husband back to Wakanda so that we may begin our honeymoon."

Erik turned, only then realising how close T'Challa was standing to him and he pressed back into the balcony railing. "Step back  _a lot_  cuz."

Smirking T'Challa stepped forward and slammed his hands down on the railing on either side of Erik's hips, effectively caging him in. Erik's eyes narrowed in simmering rage as he tried to keep the few meagre inches of space between their bodies present. 

"What's the matter  _husband_?" T'Challa purred, "do you not like it when I am close to you?"

"Does personal space not exist in Wakanda?" Erik shot back.

T'Challa chuckled and took one more step forward, pressing his fully clothed body to Erik's wet and half naked own. 

Erik's eyes were hard, his breathing controlled as he did his best to rein in his temper. It would do him no good to beat the everlasting shit out of his husband, who was also the world's wealthiest king while in a foreign country. 

"Cuz, I am five seconds away from hurting you." Erik warned, "you best better remove yourself from my person."

"Do you really think that you could take me on?" T'Challa had an infuriating smug look on his face that Erik wanted to remove in the most violent of ways. 

"Would make for an interesting fight." Erik having enough, shouldered his way out of being caged and T'Challa let him go. "I am going to take a shower." He said, grabbing clean clothes from his suitcase. "When I get out you can chew me out for ditching you." Erik slammed the bathroom door behind him before T'Challa had a chance to respond, signalling the end to part one of their conversation.

Erik stayed in the shower until the water ran cold and his fingers looked like raisins. Finally, clean and dressed, Erik walked back to the main room to see T'Challa sitting on his knees at the low table. Erik went and sat on the opposite side, propping his elbow on the table and resting his head on his fist, looking at T'Challa disinterestedly. 

"Why did you run Erik?" T'Challa was tired and he made no show of hiding it from his husband.

"Because I could."

"Erik, as much as I really want to give you a piece of my mind right now," Erik raised an eyebrow, daring the king to do so and was a little disappointed when he merely sighed and asked instead, "what will it take for you to come back to Wakanda with me without any more fuss?"

Releasing a huge sigh, Erik looked over T'Challa's shoulder out the window that revealed a great view of the beach. The reason he had ran had to do with him processing what was in his father's journal. It had nothing to do with him marrying T'Challa. Thinking back, if he had never taken that last job, he would not be here, sitting across this small table from T'Challa. He would still be ignorant to the fact that his father had once plotted the assassination of Wankanda's former king, his own brother. 

Erik's current situation was the epitome of wrong place, wrong time and it was time enough to cease and desist his crying over spilled milk, he thought as a hysterical laugh escaped him and he clamped a hand tightly over his mouth to which T'Challa raised an eyebrow. He cleared his throat. "When do you want to leave?" Erik asked, still not looking at T’Challa.

"I beg your pardon."

Erik shifted his eyes to look at T'Challa, "when do you want to leave? If you want, we can leave today. I just need to pack my clothes and inform Makoto that I will be checking out."

"We can leave this afternoon, I need to inform Okoye."

"Okoye? That's your badass female general." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes, just do not let her hear you describe her like that." T'Challa's smile was mischievous, "her head is already big enough without hearing that she's a badass."

The two men shared a laugh at Okoye's expense unbeknownst to her. 

Sobering, T'Challa asked something that had been bugging him. "Why did you run here? To Japan?" He clarified.

Erik grinned and spread his arms, "why not Japan? It's the birthplace of anime and manga."

"What?" T’Challa looked adorably confused, something Erik would never admit to thinking.

"Oh my God." He mumbled. "Anime and manga, you know,  _Naruto and Dragon Ball Z."_

T'Challa's unmoved stare remained the same. "That means absolutely nothing to me Erik."

Erik wanted to smack his husband. "Is it too late to challenge you? I am itching to kick your ass."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.japanvisitor.com/japan-city-guides/okinawa-guide
> 
> Where I did my research on places to visit in Japan. :D


End file.
